The Aftermath
by The Leaf 180
Summary: After the death of his teamates, ANBU Kakashi turns to the bottle for relief, hoping it will drown out the voices in his head. When his concerned sensei and Hokage stumbles upon him, they can both can see what has changed. He was the aftermath. One-shot.


The rain is plummeting down relentlessly, round droplets splattering onto the ground and soaking into the moist ground. It was the clove of season, winter had died but spring had yet to be born.

The sky is an angry gray, deep and unforgiving. The village is victim to a looming shadow. The rain batters the deserted streets stubbornly. The only sound is the drumming of the rain and an occasional snarl of thunder. The calming pounding of the rain presents noise, but it sounds faint and far away.

There is but one man out in the rain. He pays no heed to the rain drenching him; he does not hear the deafening roar of thunder. He is unaware of the cold wind plastering his wet hair to his head and howling into the night sky.

He does not feel the murky, sticky mud on his feet, staining his sandals brown and greedily soaking into his skin. He can see nothing, only two names. Names he held closer to his heart than anything else he had come to know in his fifteen years of living.

"Obito… Rin…" He whispers, unashamed of the pain in his voice, knowing there was no one around to hear him.

He remembers them, what they looked like and how they sounded. He memorized every detail he could recall, never wanting to forget. Obito and his carefree ways and his friendly black eyes, so much unlike his own, empty like a void. But now Obito lives within him, and Kakashi shows him the future he's missing out on. Kakashi hoped he likes what he's seeing.

He thinks of his other teammate. Rin and her humble beauty and kind brown eyes, the way they sparkled when she spoke. The sound of her voice, delicate and soft like a gust of wind over a lush prairie. Her touch and healing ways.

How it was his fault again. How he was never good for anything and the only reason he wasn't lying dead in the cold ground like his father before him was because she told him he had to live and he wasn't about to break his promise again.

_I'm trying Rin_, He thinks, his eyes downcast on the bleak obsidian stone before him, pretending to search for her name but already knowing full well where it was. He had memorized the spot.

He is alone, only in company of the dark stone, subjected to the duty of bearing to names of the deceased. It offers no answers. It does not console. In a lonely clearing, in view of the bleeding tree, Kakashi spends his morning alone on the frozen, gloomy grounds of Konoha's cemetery. Feeling like the only living being for miles.

His sensei used to come with him, before he got too busy, and the two of them would gaze into the stone for the longest time, both lost in their own thoughts. Kakashi didn't know if his pain was any different from his sensei's, he had never lost a student, but he didn't plan on teaching either, so he would never know.

But soon enough his sensei became involved with the village, and stopped visiting so often, and eventually he stopped coming at all.

When Obito had died the three of them had stayed in the same spot for hours, deep into the dead of night, none of them felt like leaving. But eventually Kushina came and took Minato home and soon enough, Rin dragged Kakashi back to his apartment too.

When Rin died Minato stood next to Kakashi, tentatively offering comfort if needed, but Kakashi wordlessly declined all offers. Minato left after an hour, saying he needed to "Get back to the office." And Kakashi was left alone with his misery.

Kakashi stayed there all night, no one left to guide him home.

Kakashi still returned loyally to the stone every morning, to remember them, to make sure they knew that he still remembered them, even if the world was still moving around him, he would always take a minute or two to make sure they knew that they were gone but now forgotten.

He knew it was immature of him to think that he could talk to them at the memorial stone, but it offered a strange false sense of comfort.

A bark of thunder jolts him back to the present, and he remembers his younger days, how foolish he was, wrapped up in his own misery, to self-absorbed to notice the world going on around him. His life flew by and he took it for granted. Oh how he wished he could go back to his younger days, when it was just him and his sensei.

But he was older now. More experience. Harder and colder than he has ever been. The rain refuses to let up and he admits defeat, turning on his heels, he begins his trek home. He had a mission soon anyway.

* * *

><p><em>Two days later<em>

The unstable door swings in a rush, wearily slamming against the old wall chipped with paint. He blindly walks into his lonely apartment, stumbling over old books and equipment as he forges a path. He drops his tanto, which had suddenly become so much heavier as adrenaline wears off.

He hears it ricochet off the floor with a clunk! He pays no heed to the noise he might be making. There's no one around to hear him anymore. His exhausted legs lead him to the couch and he prepares to collapses into it as per routine.

He lets his feet buckled and he willingly falls into the couch, feeling it heavy a muffled sigh at the addition of his weight. He closes his eyes, leaning into the couch, feeling in groan under him, feeling the fabric against him.

He sighs in defeat, listening to it echo into his empty apartment. It seemed so much colder now that Rin was gone. It was lacking the livelihood and cheer it used to have when she was around. He remembers how she used to come running to meet him at the door after missions like these, comfort him and search him for injuries. He opens his eye slightly, tired lines enhancing his narrowed, miserable orbs.

His angry black eye is filled with rage and guilt, and he curses lightly under his breath as he clenches his fist into the fabric of the couch. Another life lost. Another subordinate dead only because they had the misfortune of associating with Kakashi Hatake.

Another friend gone, another chance missed. Kakashi was tired of losing. What good is it to live with nothing left to give? He's been giving all his life, he gave his father, Obito, Rin, countless fellow ANBU, they all gave up so he could go on. _You have to live_ they told him_ you have to make it._

But he was tired of being the last one standing. What was the use of giving it all and getting nothing in return? Where was the glory? His ANBU team, he thought it would be easier with masks to hide their identity, but it's never easy. He remembers their faces, he remembers the people behind the masks.

There was Tiger, he was always the second in command, he could be rash and bold at times, he was loud and always looking for a fight. He had fiery red hair to match his personality, blazing green eyes, and a wide smirk.

He was always the first to argue, the first to disagree. But he knew were his place was and only added his input when he deemed necessary. He helped people think differently, see things in a new light, from a different perspective. He had a pure heart and was always full of good intentions.

He had a crush on his childhood friend, a kunoichi, one with gentle blue eyes and a healing personality. They evened each other out. They needed each other. Tiger was lost to them first.

After being trailed on a mission, already severely injured, he volunteered to hold them off. _I'll come back_ he had said. When Kakashi returned for the body, it was already too disfigured and mangled to tell apart from all the other corpses littering the area. Kakashi burned to body and took his dog tags.

He gave one to his fiancé when they met at the memorial. But she had been in no position to take it, she couldn't even think about him without being overcome by tears. She died in action a month later.

Kakashi kept the tags, keeping them in remembrance of them.

Then there was Mouse. She was the medic. She was soft-spoken and a deep thinker. She could be a bit indecisive and had a problem with her confidence, but had determination unlike anything he had ever seen before and if you knew her long enough you would know that she had a sly attitude.

She had short black hair, shimmering onto her shoulders, calming blue eyes and a shy grin. She was the anchor of the team, the one to bring them back, the one that could take so much without a complaint, suffer in silence.

She had a sharp mind and could work well under pressure; she always knew the most and spoke the least. She liked to hang out with the brazen boy that was a friend of her older sister; she admired his bravery and dedication. He had steady gray eyes, dark hair cropped into a stubby pony tail, perched atop the center of his head.

He helped her grow out of her shell, he taught her how to speak for herself. He was killed defending a civilian in the turmoil of a mission. Mouse had never been the same. The deaths of her teammates seemed to shake her, and she seemed unsure of her skills and doubted her knowledge.

She seemed lost without him in her life, her frazzled eyes frantic and paranoid. All the needless death seemed inhumane to her and her soft ways. She resigned from ANBU when the ongoing war was winding to a halt, right when they needed her the most, and took her own life next to her lover's name on the Hero's stone. She had known that Kakashi returned religiously every morning. She had known what she had done.

Kakashi had found her. In her clenched hand, a note that read, _Thank you for teaching me, I'm ready to go now._ With a sigh, he had taken her dog tags as a way to remember her, and placed it next to Tiger's on his dresser.

Next there was Owl. She was the fighter of the team. She had the brains and the brawns. She was the level headed warrior, not afraid to speak her mind but knew when to be silent. She was often the one to decide what to do when the team was split amongst itself, but at times was biased towards Kakashi's opinion, which he found strange.

He knew his squad knew that his heart belonged to Rin. He had never stopped to think about it, but after Owl was dead he was quite sure she had been jealous. Owl had always been true to herself before the rules, a trait that Kakashi admired about her, especially with his experience with Obito.

She was comical and always found light of a dire situation. She had a carefree attitude, a _you-only-live-once-so-make-the-most-of-it_ outlook on life. She had wavy dark russet curls rolling past her slim shoulders, piercing amber eyes, and a cunning smile to complete her. She had had lovers in the past, and had seen her share of the trauma, but always found a way to be strong.

She could summon up strength from her core to guide her through. She helped him get by after the deaths of Tiger, Mouse and Rin. She knew her place and never tried to strike up anything romantic between them, though longing was hidden in her eyes behind a cheery smile.

They had often gone to the local bar after missions, sometimes with the rest of the squad, sometimes alone. Kakashi liked her company; he liked having someone he could relate to.

Someone who had seen all the same heartache and misery as he had, someone who has been on the same type of missions he had, someone who understood that sometimes silence was enough.

She had died in the crossfire of a mission, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had held her hand as she passed, noticing the faint lust in her eyes as her voice became weaker and weaker.

_Look underneath the underneath_, She had said. Kakashi only wishes he had looked deeper when he had the chance. Her dog tag rest next to the rest of his broken ANBU team.

It was different with Rin; she was so naive and blissfully unaware that sometimes it just infuriated Kakashi to be around her, especially when she pretended to relate to him. The only death she had seen was Obito, and sometimes Kakashi wonders if she understands him at all. She had worked in the hospital, away from the fighting, and only saw the survivors. She saw the lucky ones.

Before Owl had died, two other rookies had replaced Tiger and Mouse. Ferret and Cat. Ferret specialized in wood techniques, which Kakashi found interesting, and taught him to the best of his ability. He knew Ferret found him strict and unreasonably cruel, but Ferret was new, and hadn't seen as much as Kakashi had. Maybe someday he would understand. Kakashi hoped not.

Cat was a weaponist, and there was not much Kakashi could teach her, she only offered a partner for katana practice. He had heard the rumors and was aware of the growing suspicion of Cat's crush on Hayate which was becoming more than a crush.

He didn't care for such mindless gossip, but he was working on information gathering, and sometimes you have to make do with what you have. He didn't know what Cat thought of him, because she kept her mouth shut, and obeyed orders without a question. She was less stubborn than Ferret.

He wasn't going to wait around for someone to replace Owl. He didn't know if he was cut out for this type of thing anymore.

But there was always him, Wolf, the leader. But now there was no one left to lead. He was the tracker, he was responsible for locating the enemy and then hunting them down. He didn't mind his job, but his subordinates were picked off so easily. He didn't want another team to fail; he didn't want to watch another team fall apart in front of him. He was done.

But it would be cowardly to resign from the organization. He was a coward, but he was needed there. And as long as they needed him there he would stay. It was his job as a tool. It was what he agreed to when he accepted the Wolf mask. Even if he was free of ANBU, their memories would plaque him, their faces would haunt him, and their words would torture him.

He so sick of this life. The world of shinobi. The killing, day in, day out. So much needless death, so many ruined lives. For a useless cause. He was sick of the competition, sick of trying to be the next best thing.

He was tired of carrying around his reputation, tired of worrying what others would think, tired of living in general. His life wasn't even a quarter of the way over and he was already ready to quit. With that in mind, he sluggishly pulled himself off of his sagging couch. Peeling himself away from the worn fabric, feeling the couch bend under him.

He dragged himself to his compact kitchenette on frozen feet, paying no heed to the semi dried mud flaking off of his stiff sandals and onto his sterile kitchen floor. He swung the weak cabinet open lazily, with unnecessary force, just to feel it knock loudly against the other cheaply made cupboards that were aligned next to it. Just to have the useless knowledge that there was still something he could control, as small and meaningless as it may be.

He glared at the sole bottle of tequila in the far corner of the abandoned cupboard, decorated with wispy clouds of dust. It was given to him as a joke by one of the jounin about how he would need it when he was old enough…

He closed his bleary eyes, memories of his last mission flashing behind his eyes lids, he watched it like a movie, the screams of his victims ringing in his ears and blending into the background in turmoil of sound.

_The whistle of Chidori singing the song of a thousand chirping birds, filling the air with the crackle of concentrated power, and the notes like music in the obscure night sky. The mission was a disaster; they had tracked their victim into a building taped with explosive tags. He should have seen the signs._

_Kakashi struggled to locate his team through the smoky haze, smog clouding his senses. A pale hand stretches out, starkly white against his narrowed vision. Bloody, pale fingers call for him, and he shakily grasps Owl's shivering hand, avoiding eye contact. She whispers his name, death making her voice soft and raspy._

_Another piece of his sanity chips away as he imagines her long brown curls, tainted with red, her panicked brown orbs, searching for him. She tightens her grip on his hand, and his heart clenches._

_She is afraid of death; he can sense it in the air around them. She is lost, she is confused, and she reaches to him, asking for comfort he could not give, just needing his calming ways. He could not meet those needs, he never was able to._

_It was all part of his flawed design, the crucial part of him that he was missing. Another missing part of his incomplete puzzle. He stared into her frail hands, both eyes wide and so brutally awake. Unable to say anything that could comfort her._

He forces his eyes open breaking the scene, biting his lip as his self-control crumbles. He reaches out for the bottle, trusting it to bring him the relief he so desperately needed. He groped the bottle with both hands. Knowing that he was underage but not caring. He's broken rules before.

He needed this, anything to distract him, keep him away from her quiet last words, a hushed shadow hovering over his conscious forever. He remembered how Owl had always gone out drinking with him, dragging him along and convincing him that they'd never get caught. ("We're trained to be sneaky right?")

Maybe no one noticed them because they were too busy; maybe they knew and just didn't care. Maybe they knew they were ANBU and gave them silent permission. Maybe they sensed Owl's loud nature and knew she would make a scene. Maybe they were just too timid to approach the ANBU.

Owl had just glared at them halfheartedly and laughed her full, musical laugh that could make anyone smile. Kakashi had just followed along.

Stumbling back over to his dilapidated couch, he leaned back and let it catch him, grunting and shifting under his weight. He watched the clear liquid sloshing in the bottle, washing up against the sides before it settled in a whirlpool of poison. There wasn't much left and he had been too distracted to bother to get a cup to pour it into. Only a little more than half was left of the frosty liquids, promising a dreamless sleep and a pounding headache when morning came.

He grimaced, it wasn't enough to get him as drunk as he had hoped, he wanted to drink himself into a head-spinning stupor and then count the colors off, one by one, as they disappeared from his vision, too numb to feel, to slow to think, too rotted inside to keep up his stoic facade any longer, and then when he felt he couldn't take it any longer, fall into an unconscious slumber, only waking up when just enough sunlight stung his eyes.

He took a rigid hand and unscrewed the top, tossing the cap over his shoulder and letting it fade from his memory. He channeled his attention on the unblemished fluid contained by the sturdy bottle.

Holding it with one hand as the other searched for the mask that concealed the lower half of his face. He dragged it down slowly, feeling it crawl past his nose, tracing his limp lips, letting his bottom lip catch on it lazily.

He let it rest on his pointed chin as his sensitive nose was assaulted by the strong scent of alcohol. His glided his tongue over his pointed teeth, acquired from the clan of the tracker wolves that he descended from.

They were canine-like teeth that would put the Inuzuka clan to shame; perfect, sharp, enhanced with a glossy sheen, and a pearly ivory color that just begged to be accented with the ruby sheen of blood that the sadistic part of him so desired.

He opened his mouth, feeling his fangs sink so effortlessly into his lip… imagining them piercing flesh, being greeting by a rush of warm crimson, the comforting scent of blood rising into his sharp nose…

He shook his head with a wiry smirk, and then let it diminish as a shade of dread reminded him of what he had set out to do and why. Kakashi tightened his grip on the bottle with a crushing grip, till he was almost clawing it.

He felt his heart beat speed up as his eyes jet from side to side. He remembered all of them, Sakumo, Obito, Rin, Tiger, Mouse, Owl… And hating himself more and more for each name he added.

They should all be living. Not him. If he could trade his life to bring them all back he would in a heartbeat. They were heroes. They didn't deserve death.

He tipped his head back as he raised the bottle of churning alcohol to meet his parched lips, feeling the cold liquids burn down his throat. He knew he wasn't supposed to chug it, but at the moment he was so far from caring. All he wanted was to be away from it all and his wishes were only satisfied by the bottle.

The tasteless liquid flooded down his throat and he hadn't a care in the world as he let himself go, letting himself get lost in a drunken haze he yearned for. The liqueur was scalding in the pit of his stomach, burning a hole, drowning out the pain, the grief, the blame, letting him forget what he lived for and float off into an ignorant bliss and never wanting to resurface, dreading the time when reality would be forced upon him once again.

* * *

><p>Upon awakening, his already stinging eyes were immediately attacked with blinding rays from the sun. Barely giving him a moment's peace, a stabbing headache was agonizingly shooting through his head, his senses were muddled and he was lying on his side on his bedroom floor, a slight drool leaking from the side of his mouth.<p>

A churning, sting in the pit of his stomach reminds him of last night's events as he suppresses a sigh. His sharp nose picked up the scent of alcohol, in the air absorbed into his clothes. He must reek of it, he thought.

He lay, splayed out, limbs carelessly spread out before him, he blinked sluggishly. Relaxing and putting his full weight into the floorboards. He feverishly hoped that his drunken self had stayed inside his apartment, and had not done anything too stupid to stain his perfect reputation.

From is viewpoint on the dusty floor, he could see that nothing was strewn about recklessly, nothing was broken, no more new holes in his wall to patch up. And no more Rin to help him get through the mess. He smirked halfheartedly, gazing up at his ceiling, seeing things he knew only he could see. He was all alone again.

He didn't know how long he stayed in that very position. Content with resting his head on one arm and fingering his lair lazily, not really noticing how he was cutting off his circulation and caring even less. He watched the sun peek through his half open curtains and travel across his dusty, almost inhabited room. He thought he had heard the unmistakable sound of a door opening, slowly, cautiously, but he doubted it.

He concentrated on his vision as is swung in and out of focus periodically. A voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Rin reminded him that had to get up and go to work and meet the next unlucky soul to be added to his ANBU team, to replace Owl.

Then he had to coordinate the new addition to the team's teamwork skills, what his or hers strengths and weaknesses were, and how he could fit it into the team. Then they would go on another dreadful, hell of a mission, and if he was lucky, he'd come out of it all in one piece and with a team (hopefully a living one) to drag home. And if all goes well he'll be right back at it by the end of the week.

He wonders who the new addition to the team will be, if they'll be loud and brave like Tiger, or shy and intelligent like Mouse, or stubborn and level headed like Owl. He wonders what animal they will be named after, preferable one that he hasn't already seen, so he doesn't get confused when he tries to remember them all.

He wonders if he or she will tag along with him when he goes to the bar after a mission, he wonders what there backstory will be, and how long it takes for them to crack, how long they can hold themselves together…

He closes his eyes the steady his vision, feeling a twinge in his neck along with a sore ache pulsing through his body. He faintly remembers the pulled muscles along his legs, the bruises coloring his chest, and all the new lacerations littered all around him from the last mission. The one that had taken Owl.

A yellow blur appears on the edge of his line of view, and Kakashi dimly wonders if he is hallucinating, if this was just the effects of the alcohol or maybe he had finally lost his mind. He had begun to suspect his sanity was ebbing away, but he kept in inside. This wasn't the time to worry anyone else, or get him sent to an asylum. He planned on keeping quiet until the voices in his head went away.

A sigh. "…Kakashi?"

As the iridescent smudge crouched down next to him, Kakashi's fuzzy vision was able to discern striking cobalt eyes and a disapproving frown, leading him to believe that it was the one and only Minato-sensei that had come to check up on him.

_He's not your sensei anymore._ Kakashi thought, smirking indistinctly, his lips twitching at the movement. _The Hokage himself has come to see how you're doing._

He heard the anxiety coloring the man's voice, and he knew he had to do something before his former sensei overreacted and gave himself a heart attack. Alas, his tongue felt bloated and stiff and all he managed to mumble was a grunt in answer. The Hokage's frown deepened as he studied his one time student.

His former apprentice looked a little worse for the wear. To call him scrawny was an understatement. His arms were thin and lanky; his uncovered face revealed gaunt shadows and he seemed to radiate an unhealthy glow.

His half lidded eyes were rheumy and weary, only a dull gleam let him know that his genius of a student was still in there somewhere. His pale ANBU armor clung to him, only proving Minato's misgivings that the boy was underweight.

Minato blinked and kept his eyes closed, thinking. The condition of Kakashi's apartment had been usual, nothing in disarray, nothing out of place. The only thing that worried him was Kakashi on the floor before him. His student looked drastically out of character, especially with his mask down.

His sensei was reminded with a pang of how young Kakashi really was; he seemed so much older with the mask on. With his mask on, Minato could pretend that he wasn't really talking to his student, just the faceless soldier that he was made to be. That he wasn't really looking at that same little boy he had taken under his wing all those years ago.

He struggles to remember the one who's smile used to be sweet instead of poisonous, kind instead of wry, sincere instead of cynical, innocent instead of sarcastic….

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. There was no reasonable reason for Kakashi to be late, he's never been late before, and Minato had been going in this direction anyway… Maybe Kakashi had been poisoned? Paralyzed? But Kakashi is smart enough to know when to go to the hospital, as much as he hated it.

Minato's frown deepened, and he hears the wild, laughing voice of Kushina teased him about wrinkles in the back of his head.

Just then Kakashi tried to sit up, stiffly pulling himself into a sitting position, eyes screwed shut it from what Minato assumed was pain, and a faint, almost unheard groan escaped his lips and Minato's concern only deepened.

Kakashi's head was still in a fog as he lethargically heaved himself upwards, wanting to prove to his sensei that he was still capable of doing small things, or that he was just in a daze… His slowed mind strained to find an adequate reason for this predicament situation.

He felt his rigid back bend at the movement, protesting at the action. His head felt like lead and his stomach was twisting nauseously and he fought to keep it from showing on his face.

He felt naked without his usual mask to cover his emotions, preventing anyone from knowing what he was thinking. He felt safe with it on. Secure… though everyone has long since stopped caring for the reason why and just took him as he was. They didn't care what he wore just as long as he got his job done.

A tight moan slipped past his guard as he dragged himself into a sitting position, his back snapping and popping. His ears were ringing and his throat was raw. He felt distorted and tired as he glared at his uneasy former sensei.

His voice was raspy and it scraped painfully against his throat, but he forced the words out slowly, so his sensei wouldn't notice the slurs within his lazy tone.

"Can I help you, Hokage-sama…?" He winced at his raspy tone.

His sensei look deep into him, his rich eyes deep like the sea. He searched Kakashi's eyes, trying to find answers, and Kakashi did not try to match his glower. He involuntarily blinked to keep his eyes open as his sensei peered at him, like he sometimes did when Kakashi was caught lying.

Finally, the Hokage broke eye contact and fixed his eyes upon Kakashi's floor, scowling at the clouds of dust gathering in clumps.

"Are you doing alright on your own Kakashi?" Minato murmured, his indigo orbs still trained on his floor.

Kakashi puffed a sigh. He knew Minato was torn between his duties to the village and his deep sense of caring for Kakashi, but the young ANBU operative wished he would leave, so he wouldn't have to keep swallowing down the bile building in his throat, its acid burning and its rancid taste going to his head.

Besides, the village might be missing their Hokage soon; he had a lot of duties to attend to. And Minato shouldn't worry, Kakashi had been on his own for a while now. It was nothing new.

"'m fine." Kakashi slurred, swaying slightly where he sat. He gripped the floor to steady himself, his knuckles turning white in attempt to appear as though nothing was wrong.

The Hokage seemed not to notice as his sapphire eye took up a vacant look that Kakashi has come to recognize as a sign that the man was thinking. Kakashi flexed his toes, his leg cramping up from his position as vomit steadily crept up his throat. His choked it down with all his willpower, ignoring its sour taste and the unsettling sense it left in him.

Minato bit his lip slightly, another habit Kakashi had picked up over the years. His sensei was unsure of what he was supposed to do. Kakashi exhaled slowly, unevenly, wishing for his sensei to hurry up and leave. His visit was too long and Kakashi feared he would pass out again if the man did not leave soon.

The man in question glanced up at Kakashi, his apprehensive cerulean orbs clearly distressed but unable to pin point a solution to the problem.

"You don't look too good…" His sensei trailed off, sensing the awkwardness between them and the yawning gap of silence that was growing as the time wore on.

Kakashi didn't mean to be rude but he could feel his strict self-control slipping as his stomach sloshed and his head ached and his back was sore and there was an itch crawling up his throat…. And the last thing he wanted to deal with was his sensei at the moment. His impatience was growing and he could feel the tempting urge to be claimed by oblivion as the moments spanned.

_Poof!_

Both of the shinobi's head's turned at the sudden sound. Kakashi's head spun at the sudden movement and his world seemed to tip for a moment before he got everything back in order.

Before them stood ANBU Ferret, standing rigidly at attention.

His sensei was all business as he transformed from a caring sensei into a stern Hokage. He nodded at the operative, standing with one fluid movement, swiftly making his way to the soldier that stood before him. "Report"

Ferret cleared his throat, his deep voice low and steady. "The council requests your presence, sir."

Kakashi watched from afar, thanking his lucky stars that Ferret had rescued him. He could feel his curious teammate's eyes straying over to him as he spoke, and Kakashi gave him a halfhearted smirk and a short shake of the head. _Don't worry about it._

Minato nodded seriously as he spared a second to glance at his former student behind him, helplessness flickering in his eyes for a split second before his hands formed the necessary signs and Kakashi was alone once again.

A part of him would later wonder if the council actually did need Minato, and luck was finally on his side, or Ferret had purposely saved him from his sensei in order to give his captain the rest he needed. He knew there was an ANBU operative in the area, for one had been issued to trail the Hokage at all times.

Maybe Ferret actually understood him, if just a little. Kakashi should probably invite him to go drinking with him one of these days…

But all other thoughts were far from his mind as he let himself go, falling back to the floor, yearning for another dreamless sleep to help him through the didn't care for tomorrow, a deep and restful sleep was the only thing he wanted at the moment. He doesn't waste a minute and he is dead to the world before his mind can register the past few events.

He dreams are full of wishes and ghosts, and he doesn't want to wake to a world consisting of nothing but unfulfilled desires and broken promises.

**Remember, those who disobey the rules are scum, but those who don't review are worse than scum!**


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